


A Gallery Of Emotions

by lahmsteiger_lover



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Death, M/M, One-Shots, Tragedy, my apologies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 21:22:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2707232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lahmsteiger_lover/pseuds/lahmsteiger_lover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of one-shots. Lahmsteiger, Alternate Universes.<br/>Warnings in each chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. After all, it was peace

**Author's Note:**

> So, I have a lot of inspirations for these one-shots.  
> Why a gallery of emotions?  
> You can read and feel in your own view. You can see it as sad, bad, happy, calm,... or anything to do with emotions. That's what I am supposed to do.  
> All the mistakes/typos are mine.  
> Thanks for reading. Your feedbacks are always welcome :D
> 
> WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: Character Death and Sensitive Material

**_For all the brave hearts sacrificed in the wars, their family and friends._ **

**_________________________ **

**Germany, 1940**

The War had broken out.

Bombs, explosion, gun powder.

Tanks, submarines, planes.

The sky was covered in black smoke. The air was thick with gases.

Everywhere was damaged houses, burnt trees, people running and screaming in pain and fear. Some was injured, lying lifelessly on the streets, next to the corpses of animals and other people.

Such a living nightmare.

***

The soldiers were standing into a line. They were of all ages: old men, middle-aged, and young boys. On their faces were the look of determination, mixed with sorrow and sadness. They listened to the orders from the General, heads up, eyes in front, serious look. After having gotten all through, they broke into small groups to their tents.

Four soldiers were sitting in a small tent. Inside was a small mat, two thin blankets with their clothes folded as pillows.

The newest boy eyed the others in the tent with curiosity and hesitant. He did not know how to start.

“Newbie, aren’t you?” A soldier spoke up. The boy noticed the man in the corner – he was small, too small for a soldier, hair cut short and same colour as his; his expression was serious but still friendly and polite; and the man’s eyes, so deep, so blue, so calm, so beautiful. The new soldier was speechless.

“Earth to you, little boy. You have not answered his question.” Another man, who was very big and aggressive but his voice was so soft and calm, like a father talking to his son, made the newbie feel more like home.

“Yeah, yes I am.” He answered, blushed a little at his distraction. “My name is Bastian Schweinsteiger.”

“That’s hell of a name. I’m Oliver Kahn, call me whatever you want, I got all the nicknames: Gorilla, Titan, King Kong,… or things like that. I don’t really give a damn about that. But beware, little boy!”

“Philipp Lahm, call me Philipp.” The blue-eyed man spoke up, held his small hand out to shake Bastian’s bigger ones.

“Miroslav Klose.” The last man decided to introduce, gave Bastian a light nod before returning to his work.

“Enough introducing for now, go back to work.” Kahn ordered, received a nod from Philipp and turned to Bastian. “You know the rules here, right, boy?”

Bastian just nodded.

“Good. Don’t forget anything. This is an army, not a fish market. Remember that.” With those words, the Titan walked away, left Bastian alone in the tent.

He missed his home.

***

A month had passed and Bastian got used to living in the army. He had also learnt some basic skills and knowledge about guns, grenade and other weapons. His relationships with the three men were not too close, but alright. He mostly talked to Oliver as he needed to receive orders from the older man. With Miroslav, everything was alright – they exchanged books and stories with each other; and through Miro, Bastian met Lukas, who was another newbie just like him. At least he had someone to share things with.

What Bastian was not really satisfied was his relationship with Philipp – it was like they never talked to each other. Basti did like Philipp from the first time, but the soldier kept avoiding him, or he thought Philipp was avoiding him. When he waved Philipp, the man pretended to be doing something; when he tried to form a proper conversation with Philipp, he just nodded and nothing more. Bastian was so confused: Had he done something that Philipp did not like? He wanted to be friend with the blue-eyed so badly, but it seemed impossible.

***

He was standing on the field, next to Oliver, watching other groups doing their training. The War was getting more intense, and the training got harder through times. Food was limited and all the soldiers just got a really small meal for each time.

He looked at Philipp, who was discarding the gun from the ground – he still looked strong and alert after all the difficulties – Bastian really admired that. But through times, he did notice a sad look in Philipp’s eyes. Maybe that was the War. Maybe that was seeing people dying in front of your eyes.

“Why do Philipp look so sad?” He asked Oliver in a stormy day, when dark clouds were filling up the skies and sorrow filling up Philipp’s eyes.

“He lost someone whom he loved in his life, that’s why.”

Bastian was still curious: “Can I hear the whole story, Titan?”

Oliver stared at Philipp from a distance. “I don’t think it’s the right time. But I know you are curious about why he avoids you.”

“I am.” Bastian admitted.

“You remind him of that person.”

***

Bastian never liked War. Why did they have to kill other people? He was confused and angry and sad about the fact of being a soldier.

One day, they were on the battlefield, firing their guns, masks attached to their faces, in the storm of gases and dust. Basti’s eyes stung painfully at the heat of the attack. He saw fire burning, innocent children running around, loathed himself.

At some moments of break between the battle, Schweinsteiger sat on the dirty ground with Kahn, Klose and Lahm. He studied each of them, weary expressions showed on their faces – they did not want to do any of this, either.

Oliver pulled out a small bag from his pocket, unfolded it and picked up a picture. He handed it to Philipp. “My family, my world. They are waiting for me to come home.” He said with a sad smile.

“Why do we have to do this? Destroying everything?” Bastian asked – he needed to know why he was there, hurting people.

Miroslav looked at him. “You still have not understood, right?”

“Klose, he is still young and new to this, you do not need to say that.” Oliver warned the other man. “Listen, Schweinsteiger – it’s all about the pride of our country. This War is just another way to stop all those small, hidden arguments between people. No one feels good doing this, kid. We won’t know when it will stop. All we need to remember is we fight for our lives, our country, our prides…”

“That is such bullshit,” Philipp breathed out for the first time, ignored the questioning look from Kahn. “this War is just some kind of freedom for dictators. They enslave us, enslave everybody, and promise nonsense.”

They fell silent.

The battle went on, as Basti saw Philipp’s tears rolling down on his cheek.

***

“Still up?”

That was another sleepless night for Bastian. He stayed outside the tent, smoking, white smokes flew into the air. And he was not the only one.

Philipp silently walked to his place, sat down next to him, watched the stream of smokes vanishing into the air.

“Why did you say that earlier?” Bastian threw the cigarette on the ground, stepped on it few times before the light actually went off.

“Don’t you think that’s the truth?” Philipp stared at Bastian, his beautiful eyes clouded by the War were so addicting.

“Then why are you still here, doing this?”

“You won’t understand.”

They remained like that for a long time. Bastian was a little afraid how Philipp would react, but he still slid an arm around the other man’s shoulder, pulling him closer. Philipp did not say anything about that, he just shifted into a more comfortable position.

That was the first time they really had some contact.

***

Bastian was running as fast as possible. He could not breathe. He could taste the blood on his lips, metallic and nasty. An enemy’s soldier was running right behind him, yelling him to stop. But he could not – he would either die or win, never be captured.

They ran into a small barn, facing each other. Basti’s back was against the wall, blood pumping through his veins, rushed to his head. He grabbed the gun tightly, staring at his enemy – a middle-aged, surely experienced, eyes showing some unnamed expressions. They just stood, staring into each other eyes, neither of them made a move.

Bastian’s instincts told him to run, to escape, but he ignored it. All he knew was the danger. He had to survive. He was afraid, his body was shaking, he was just a spring chicken to the man standing in front of him.

The man finally took a step: He dug in his pockets, obviously finding something.

Without even thinking, Bastian pulled the trigger.

A loud sound erupted.

The man was holding his wound with one hand, the other hand was still deep in his pocket. He was shaking violently, coughing blood on the ground, mouth gasping for air. Bastian dropped his gun, he came closer, full of doubts, kneeled down beside his enemy. The older man pulled at his battle jacket, pointing repeatedly on his pocket. Bastian hesitated a little, pulled out all the things in the man’s pocket. The soldier mouthed “thanks” weakly, and let out his last breath. His eyes still opened wide, the face of being tortured by pain carved in Bastian’s mind.

The man was dead.

He had just killed someone.

Having realised what he had done, Bastian brought his hands to his face, looking at the blood of the other man on his hands. He felt dirty, nasty, terrible, he wanted to throw up after what he had done. Tears streaming down his face and he could not stop the pain spreading in his heart. This got even worse when he saw what was in the man’s pocket.

A cross. And a family photo. Similar to Kahn’s.

That man had a family too – his loved ones waiting for him to come back. And Bastian just killed him.

He did not know what to do and what to feel. All was empty. All.

“Bastian!” He looked up and saw Philipp walked in, worries filled up his eyes. He looked at the shorter man with desperation, and when Philipp kneeled beside him, he broke down into the man’s arms. He was crying his heart out, he could not help it – he was such a monster. Philipp took a look around the barn, understood what happened. He rubbed Bastian’s back, trying to calm him down.

“I.. I... I am such a m..monster!” Bastian choked, trying to speak between sobs. “He… He had a fa… family… awating for him… and I killed him! He had not even done any harm to me…!”

Bastian’s sobs got louder, broke Philipp’s heart. The was someone, being like that once, Philipp remembered…

“Bastian.” Philipp said softly. “That is a part of the War. You are neither right nor wrong. You just did what made you feel safe.”

“But I… I killed him!” Basti yelled, hands fisting on Philipp’s jacket. “I don’t want to harm anyone, I never want!”

“I know. I know.” Philipp sighed, hugging Bastian, still tried his best to calm the young soldier down. “But the truth is that you killed him, and we cannot turn back time. All the best we can do is giving his body and possessions to his friends. That’s what we can do now.”

The younger man nodded. He came to the soldier, held his arm and put it on the man’s chest, did the same with the other arm. He wiped the blood around where the soldier was shot, and slowly rubbed his open eyes shut. Thinking a little, he bow his head and put a light kiss on the man’s cold forehead, his heart ached.

Bastian stood up, stepped back a little, saluted to the man. Philipp was standing right next to him, saluted the soldier as well.

The rival’s soldiers’ reaction was not too terrible: They thanked Philipp and Bastian for bringing their friend back to them.

“I know we are opponents, but for an incident like this, we are friends. Thank you for bring him back here, I don’t know how it would be if he were left on the battlefield.” A soldier said. He shook hands with both Bastian and Philipp, saluted them and they did the same.

“Now you can go before our captain is back. I am grateful to your beautiful manner, but remember, you Germans are not welcomed here. Understand? Maybe when the war is over, we can be friends, but not now.” The English soldier told them. They nodded in knowing, said their goodbyes and left.

That night, Bastian could not sleep, again. And he felt thankful Philipp was there for him.

***

Four years had passed.

The Schweinsteiger boy had become a man in the War.

His eyes were so much older, his heart was stronger. He had a tough look on his face.

He had seen too many lost, he had killed some more people in those four years, he turned colder. But he did not turn heartless.

Miroslav Klose lost his life in a battle. A bullet flew directly to his heart. Bastian was there.

Kahn was shot on the leg, the wound got infected, the doctors needed to cut his leg off and replaced it with a wooden leg. He had been in that operation, saw everything.

Lukas was stabbed on the stomach, suffered blood loss, nearly lost his life, Bastian saw that.

And Philipp… the fragments of a bullet still stayed in his head.

His friends were hurt, destroyed in the War. And he accepted that.

***

“This is going to end soon.” Philipp said, rubbing his head. Weather changes made the wounds feel worse.

“I hope so.” Bastian muttered while cleaning his gun – with it, he saved lives but he also took them away.

Lukas joined in the conversation. “What will you do when all of this ends?” – Lukas, still an optimist, a bright spot in the War, one of the reasons Bastian was still there, in the battlefield.

Both men shrugged.

“Maybe I will get home, build a new life, live quietly. This War has been too loud for me that I will hear it even when it is over.” Philipp spoke up, looked at the two.

“For me - I may write a book telling everybody about the War. I will show the kids real stories, real photos, not their boring History lessons at school.” Bastian’s eyes lit up with ideas and hope.

“Sounds nice.” Lukas said, patting the other man’s shoulder. “I will be the first one to buy it.”

“Then I’ll be the second.” Philipp joked, and the trio laughed together.

If only something had not happened.

***

“Tomorrow will be our last battle.” Philipp stood beside Bastian, handed him the handmade tea. He sipped, felt a little more conscious.

“Obviously.” Bastian replied, handed the empty mug to the older man. “Then we can go home and make our dreams come true.”

Suddenly, some unnamed expressions flashed in Philipp’s eyes.

“What was that?” Bastian asked, concerned.

“Nothing.” Philipp answered, ignored his burning mind. He stroke Bastian’s cheek, got closer and kissed on it. The blonde just leant in, put some kisses on Philipp’s hair.

“Be safe. For me. For us.”

“I’ll remember that.”

***

**Five years later**

Reporter: "We are very honored to have the author of the bestseller this year here. He was a soldier in the World War II, he saw the battlefields, the loss, he breathed the air full of explosions, gases and gunpowder. His book is a wonderful and heart touching story about  
the soldiers' brotherhood in the War. Please welcome, Philipp Lahm!"

He heard the applause from the crowd, waved to them and smiled a little. His book had been a success, more than he had expected. He felt blessed.

"So, Mr. Lahm, can you share to us some stories when you wrote your book?" The reporter asked with a kind smile.

"Of course. I had a very hard time forming the book, extracting the ideas, choosing the stories. The War had just been over and we still had to build our new lives, so that was one of the obstacles. My friends were very supporting, it was like, one day, Oliver came to my small house, sat on the sofa, and offered me a hand. He was such a good friend, you know. Plus, Lukas was the one who told me to write something 'bright and beautiful, not some kind of too dark ones’ cos we had enough of those in the War."

"Do you mean Oliver Kahn and Lukas Podolski? I have seen some interviews of them, which were really nice."

"Yeah, we had good times together. We still hang out with each other on occasions. I am blessed to have friends like them."

The interviewer nodded. "How about the man you wrote on the book, Bastian Schweinsteiger? Can you tell us something about him?"

"To me, Bastian was not just a friend, or a colleague, he was more than that. He was a melody in the loud crashing sound of the War. When the War left us blind, Bastian’s heart reminded us to be kind, even with your enemy. I miss him. This book is dedicated to him. Without Bastian, I must have been full of hate, and this book would not have been here. So, that's it: he was my best friend, and will always be. I will never forget him." Philipp said, tears forming in his eyes, he realized how much he missed Bastian.

_“Philipp! On your left!” Bastian shouted at him, pointing at the spot on his left. He turned to see a gun inches away from his face. He jumped back two steps, held his gun and pulled the trigger. A bullet flew to his enemy’s leg, broke the man down to the ground. Two other soldiers ran to help the injured soldier up, looked at Philipp and he nodded._

_That was their last battle and things got even heated than before. He had been gun-pointed five times and had to shot three soldiers. “I hate this.” He thought and jogged back to his position, eyes locked on the enemy’s soldiers._

_The battle ended. Neither the German nor the English won – their soldiers were shot even that was the last day of the War._

_“Philipp,” Bastian ran to him, smiling. “That was over!” He held his hand to Philipp, forming a hug. Philipp walked to the younger soldier, felt happy and relieved. He looked at Bastian, opened his mouth to speak-_

_“BASTI LOOK OUT!”_

_That was too late._

_“BASTI! BASTI! OH MY GOD BASTI!” He shouted in agony, the pain in his heart rose to an unbearable state. He saw the soldier getting shot right in his heart, eyes opened wide, fell on the ground. He got down next to him, trying to stop the bleeding, but it was no use. Bastian’s breaths became weaker. He looked up to Philipp, his hand reached to the shorter man’s face, petting his hair. He opened his mouth but no words left him._

_“Don’t, Basti--- Just, please, you can do it, you can do it!” Philipp begged, his voice was desperate. “Stay with me, please, oh my God!” He cried, still tried his best to cover the wound, stop the bloody foams._

_“Fips…” Bastian whispered, weakly. “No… use…”_

_“NO! YOU CAN DO IT! Please, Basti, please!” He could not stop his tears, Bastian needed to live, he could not stand the thoughts of the soldier leaving him. But this was not a nightmare, it was real, and he was seeing a dying Bastian._

_“Fips,… Stay safe,… For me,… You deserve… better.”_

_“Basti-“_

_“Keep me in your heart… take care of yourself, promise me.” His voice got not more than an exhale. “Hug me.”_

_Philipp nodded, eyes welled up with tears, wrapped his arms around the bigger man, felt his last heartbeats. “I will, I promise—“_

_Bastian nodded, his eyes fell shut._

_He looked like he was sleeping, but actually he was not. Philipp cried out louder, calling Basti’s name, why this had to be like this, why not him but Basti… He still hugged the other man tightly, he did not want to leave Basti._

_Even when Lukas and Oliver came, Philipp still kept Bastian close to him. Only when he calmed down, tears dried, he let Lukas bring Bastian back to his tent._

***

It was a cold December day.

Philipp was standing in front of a gravestone, words carved onto it.

“BASTIAN SCHWEINSTEIGER

One of the bravest soldiers in the World War.

Sacrificed himself for many lives.

Salute.”

He put a hand on the cold marble surface, trying to feel Bastian’s heartbeat through it.

He hoped Bastian had been here for him.

But his mind reminded him that his friend was no longer there, he had gone to another world.

“Basti,” he spoke to the image in front of him. “Remember when you told me and Lukas that you would write a book? I do. I could not stop thinking about it. I hope you were here, my friend. I hope we could read your book together, living a normal life. But life is not always what we want, isn’t it?”

He ran his fingers on the carved words.

“I miss you so much. I really do. Can you feel it?”

He pulled a book from his pocket.

“This is for you, all for you.”

He paused for a while.

“I – I don’t know how to describe my feelings. I just know that I miss you. So much it hurts. I am glad I met you, knew you. The only thing I regret is that I had been so cold to you at first. I’m sorry. You know how strong I felt towards you, right?”

He looked up to the sky.

“Get your beautiful rest, Basti. One day, we will meet again. One day, I promise.”

Around the graveyard, a warm wind blew by. Philipp breathed in – the air smelled like the ground where he and Basti shared good times together, the air smelled so familiar.

He was not so sad anymore, as he knew Basti was there for him, he could feel him, even though he could not see him.

A small smile appeared on his face when he walked home. After all, it was peace.


	2. Last Days... The longer it gets, the more it hurts.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What will you do when the time you have with your loved one is counted just by days, hours, minutes, seconds?  
> Or: another tragedy takes place in another universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY FIRST WARNING: If you are in a good mood, I don't want to ruin your day, so I advise you to stop here.
> 
> The reasons for this story: I have finished this for a while, but I did not really feel like posting it. But today, things crashed, and I suddenly feel very tired, and I decide to post this. Sounds nonsense, I know.  
> Another thing is Bastian gets injured. AGAIN. I can't believe it. Enough for a day.
> 
> That's why I really don't want your feelings to be ruined by my crappy writing and crappy mood. (This does not make any sense now.) Thank you all for reading my complaints. I'm such a douche for this.
> 
> WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: Character Death, Tragedy, Bad Ending  
> DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANYONE IN THIS STORY. NONE OF THIS IS TRUE. PLEASE DON'T SUE.

**_Be a good friend. Care about whom you love most. They might be gone before you know._ **

What would you do when your best friend just had one more month to live?

***

The doctor words stabbed into his heart.

“Lung cancer, final stage. We are sorry, but no treatment for him. We can just keep him alive for one more month before the pain takes him away.”

Bastian was sitting beside a lifeless Philipp, with tubes attached to his small and pale body. He could barely hear his friend faint heartbeats, his dying breath. He could not move. Feelings hit him like waves. Philipp was still so young, why did he have to suffer?

He blamed himself for many things: For not having cared about his best friend enough, for not having noticed the symptoms, for his ignorance. He was too happy and carefree to even look back and see how Philipp was doing. He shouldn’t have believed those answers “I’m fine.” from Philipp. He should have seen this coming.

But for that moment, he knew that reality was reality. He could do nothing to keep Philipp here. The realization hit him like tons of bricks, the image of a funeral he had attended some times ago flashed back to him, he remembered about that cold November with a talent never rose again. He shut his eyes tightly, a painful feeling crept in his tired mind. He wanted to cry, but he had never cried since that cold November funeral.

A small tug on his fingers woke him up from his thoughts. He turned to see Philipp blinking, his breathing short and shallow; he looked at Bastian, tried to say something desperately. The whole scene broke Bastian’s heart.

“I’m here, Fips.” He grabbed the smaller man’s hand with his own. “Relaxed.”

Philipp nodded, tried his best to breathe in and out. “What did the doctor say?”

After all, that was his first question. This made Bastian feel much worse. He did not know how to answer: How could you tell your friend that he was dying?

Philipp saw Bastian’s face expressions changed, and sighed. “Oh, I understand.”

The younger man could not hold back anymore. “Why did you hide your sickness, Fips? Why didn’t you tell me? When did you stop telling me all?” Even he knew the answers for all those questions; he wanted to hear what was on Philipp’s mind.

“I have my own reasons, Basti. The less you know, the less it will hurt.” Philipp replied dryly. Bastian’s heart was broken after those words.

“Fips, I…”

“Don’t say anything, Basti.” Philipp cut him off. The only sound in the room at that moment was Philipp’s faint breathing.

***

The next day, Bastian came to see Philipp. The smaller man was sitting up; pillows were around to support him. Bastian walked to his place, slowly sat down on the hospital bed, took Philipp’s hand on his own and looked at the other man’s eyes.

“Why are you here?” Philipp asked, hint of ice in his voice. “I thought you were too busy at work.”

Bastian froze. “I am absent for today.”

“For what? Don’t talk nonsense.”

“Fips, please don’t let me-“

“I know that finding a job is hard for you, and now after just three days you are absent to go to a dying man? I can’t understand that!”

Bastian could not hold it longer. “Stop, stop it! Just stop it! Fips, can you just stop hurting other people who care for you? Can you just- Fuck, I don’t know how you get the power to keep hurting people with your I-am-always-right and All-I-do-is-for-the-best, but, fuck, Fips, I’m fed up! I’m fucking tired of this, of holding my feeling this long!” Bastian felt his face heated with anger and pain after each word. “I never want to be like this, to do this and say this in your… your last month, but I have to! Please, Fips, just, please.”

Philipp blinked twice at the younger man; he was shocked at the reaction. Had he been that bad? Was he a bastard?

The pain in his chest increased slightly as he coughed repeatedly. Bastian gently hold him, helped him lie down on the hospital bed.

They stayed silent for a while. Silence was never a pleasant experience, for them.

“I’m sorry.” Bastian spoke up, avoided Philipp’s questioning gaze. “I should not have said that. I know that you just do what you feel right.”

Philipp nodded, let out the heavy brick that was on his chest. “It’s okay, Basti. I’m sorry too. It’s like being in this state makes me lose my nerves. I never want to hurt people, Basti. You know right?”

Bastian did not answer; instead, he leant in closer and hugged Philipp. Time was just counted by days, so he was not shy anymore. He just wanted to spend as much time as possible with Philipp. Sometimes he just wished everything was not real, this world was not real… Sometimes he dreamt of Philipp’s dying breath, the image haunted him night by night. He did not want to face the truth that his friend might leave him at one time. The pain, it was so real. So fucking real.

***

**Day 1**

“How was your sleep?” Bastian smiled politely at Philipp, who was just opening his eyes.

“I’m okay, Basti.” Said Philipp. “You come early.”

“Just want to watch you sleep.” The other man answered softly, holding Philipp’s hand.

“Oh, snap.” He laughed.

None of them mentioned about the number of days Philipp would be here.

**Day 2**

“Hey, Fips.” Bastian greeted him after a hard working day.

“Basti.” Philipp’s eyes lit up with happiness. “How was work?”

“Very well. I am working on some project with Manuel and Thomas.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Things went on with short, awkward conversations.

**Day 3**

“Hello?”

“Basti?”

“Oh, Fips.”

“Wanna talk?”

“Alright. Isn’t Manuel with you?”

“He has gone home a minute ago. I just can’t sleep.”

“Hmm. So what do you want to talk about?”

“Anything.”

“Alright, let’s talk about football maybe? Bayern Munich is such a bomb!”

“I know. They are like a storm, destroy everything on their way.”

The conversation went on easily.

Bastian had never felt Philipp so open to him like that. He had thought Philipp was unreachable, but he should make up his mind after this.

**Day 7**

“You still come early.” Philipp commented, glanced at Schweini behind his newspaper. Bastian just simply sat down next to him, pat on his knee. “Anything interesting?”

“Nope. This is just a tabloid anyway.”

He looked through the window. Sunday morning with lots of warmth and bright lights.

“Do you want to go out for a walk? I think it’s so exhausted just lying here all the time.” Bastian suggested, held a hand out for Philipp.

“Sure.” Philipp answered, took Bastian’s hand and walked with him outside.

They were walking, fresh air burning Philipp’s lungs. He smiled bitterly at his own condition – so weak, so lifeless. Bastian had his arm around the smaller man in a gesture of comfort, their heads touched slightly.

They sat down on a bench nearby, Bastian still wrapped his arm around Philipp’s waist, and after thinking a bit, Philipp let his head rest on the younger’s shoulder.

“You know, it’s kind of weird that we are close friends, but we do and say things like we are new to each other.” Philipp murmured next to Bastian’s ears.

“I know, but- well, I don’t know how. Aren’t you uncomfortable with it, Fips?”

Philipp shook his head. “No, I’m happy to have you here. I just wonder-“ He did not finish his sentence, but Bastian understood what Philipp was about to say. I just wonder what our relationship was like, since we cared about each other but too afraid to say that aloud.

Their hands found each other’s, locked. They did not say anything, just enjoyed the moment, afraid to break it because the chances they had were too little.

The days went on like that: Bastian stayed in the hospital, took care of Philipp, talked to him, watched films with him on his mobile, brought them something to eat, saw the doctor do some check-ups on Philipp. Manuel and his friend Thomas had come to see how Philipp was doing, and all was good, or that was just Bastian pretending. He never wanted to think about that day – the day that a light of his life went away.

It was late in the evening, only Bastian was left with Philipp. Philipp’s eyes felt heavy, his lungs felt empty as he needed oxygen to breath. Bastian sensed that, he gently put the oxygen mask on Philipp’s face, grabbed his hand, comforted him.

“Bastian,” Philipp looked at him with those weary blue eyes. “will you stay?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to stay?”

Philipp nodded, moved himself to one side of the bed and point on the empty space next to him. “There is still room.”

Bastian smiled weakly, still held Philipp’s hand. “Oh Fips.” He took of his shoes and coat, slid in the bed with Philipp. People would look at them with curiosity, he knew, but Philipp wanted him to stay, and it did not matter.

**Day 15**

“Guess what, Fips! Manuel had officially come out his love with Thomas! Damn, these two, I’ve always know there is something between them.” Bastian yelled happily, bouncing around the room and hugged Philipp. “You have to see the others’ expression – priceless!”

Philipp smiled at Bastian, pressed a small kiss on his cheek. He hesitated before actually asked his friend, “Do you think we have something too?”

Bastian smile faded, he did not know how to say it. “Yeah, are we something?”

“We are.” They both laughed, forgot all the bad days ahead for a moment, before reality came back to them.

Bastian ran a hand through Philipp’s hair. Radiotherapy was not so pleasant, Philipp’s hair got thinner through times, and the treatment just helped him lengthen his days left. He did not complain though – when life became impossible, he just wanted to spend as much time as possible with Bastian.

Bastian sighed silently, didn’t want Philipp to hear it. He knew the days were numbered, and counting the days left had become an impossible work for him to do.

He had never seen Philipp this beautiful, this tough. He realized that he was so ignorant before. And in that moment, he knew that Philipp was so precious to him. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? It was the bitter truth: When you are going to lose someone, you realize how wonderful they are.

**Day 21**

“I think you should take him home. On the last days, nothing is better than being in your own home, not in this hospital.” The doctor said, looked at Bastian.

“Last days” – those words. Sharper than any knives.

Bastian nodded.

“Fips, let’s go home.”

Philipp had been more than ready for the moment to come. “Right.”

He had lost most of his hair, and seeing himself in the mirror had been a horror. He knew he looked pale, weak, and lifeless. The last few days, he could not even breathe – if not for Bastian, he would have thought he had gone. But he still stayed strong, not really, but that was an enormous effort, and Bastian knew it.

**Day 25**

“Do you want something to eat, Fips?”

“No, I don’t feel hungry, Basti.” Philipp shrugged, eyeing the blonde. “A cup of tea will be okay.”

Bastian nodded, handed the cup to Philipp. The signs were getting clearer – Philipp had not eaten anything since two days ago, he just slept to avoid eating and to avoid Bastian’s worried looks; plus, his breathing became very terrible, unstable – long breaths mixed with shallow ones. Philipp’s body temperature had decreased, his skin felt cold, wet and clammy against Bastian’s hands. Bastian felt hopeless. He knew that the day was going to come.

This was just too fast.

He had prepared mentally for this, but still. He could not help thinking about it. He didn’t dare to say it out loud.

“Bastian.” Philipp spoke up. “Thank you. For everything.”

Bastian felt tears started to fill his eyes, his heart was so heavy. In the past days, he had been closer to Philipp, and he could not help feeling something towards the older man. Maybe it was love. And that was so tragic: he fell in love with someone who would never be with him. Why he hadn’t fallen for Philipp sooner, or never felt anything towards him?

Philipp understood Bastian’s feeling, he had it as well.

“Bastian, don’t blame yourself, your heart. Everything just happens, you know. It’s not anyone’s fault.”

“Fips…”

“Come here. Hug me.” He paused a little. “Kiss me.”

Bastian was not sure what he was hearing, but with Philipp spreading his arms, waiting for him, he nodded and come to the smaller man.

Their kiss was so strange, so pure. Bastian could feel Philipp’s painful breathing against his lips. He was scared. Of what? He did not know. He just knew that he loved Philipp, and the other man loved him back.

It was funny – life could never be so equal.

**Day 28**

Philipp had that dream again.

He was walking to the gate leading to infinity, looking back to see Bastian’s tears.

He knew the time had come. Time could just be counted by hours, minutes, seconds.

He coughed. Blood stained the white sheets as Bastian appeared at the door, looked more worried than ever. “Oh God, Fips!”

He received the glass from Bastian, downed the liquid in one take. Bitter taste spreaded in his mouth, his lungs, his blood.

They did not say about it. Both of them could feel it, but the heartbreaks would be terrible. Philipp just wanted to stay with Bastian, and Bastian just wanted to make Philipp’s last moments comfortable for his love.

“Remember when we were still rivals? Oh, I had told you that you were a bastard, and you just laughed at me, called me asshole. I missed those times. I loathed you that time, but not anymore now.” Philipp smiled weakly, lying in Bastian’s arms, feeling the other man’s heartbeats, thinking bitterly about his own.

“Fips, funny that we are attached to each other now.” Bastian tried to form a laugh, but failed miserably. “Life is weird.”

“I agree.”

“I…”

“Hmm?”

He could not finish the sentences – that was not the right time for some pinky things. But if he didn’t say it, he would regret it for the whole life.

“I love you.”

“I’ve always known.” Philipp said, kissed on Bastian’s cheek. “Ich liebe dich, Bastian Schweinsteiger.”

They just lay on the bed, hugging each other, could not let go. The whole scene was loving, but also heartbreaking – a person was trying to hold his life before it flied away, and another person could not do anything better.

“Bastian, I’m sleepy.” (I could not say I was going to faint and my head really hurt.)

“Then sleep, Fips.” (I knew what you wanted to say.)

“What if I…” (…never wake up again?)

“I will always be here for you…” (…though I don’t know how I will handle it.)

“Goodnight, Basti. Love you.”

“Night, Fips.”

***

The next morning, Bastian woke up after drifting off for a while; the first thing to do was looking at Philipp. Bastian touched his veins, felt nothing but the cold skin touching him back. He could not feel anything, he did not know what to feel.

He hugged Philipp again, placed a small kiss on his forehead. Philipp still looked like an angel, still looked like he was sleeping. A peaceful expression showed on his face – how did he feel in the last moments? Bastian wondered.

He slowly slid out of bed, felt so empty.

Pressed the numbers on his phone, he called the doctor first, then Manuel.

***

There were not many people at the funeral. Bastian was grateful to that. After all, Philipp’s wishes for his own funeral – not many people, simple, and his important friends came – were granted.

Bastian slowly carried himself in front of Philipp – that was such an exhausted journey, and started his speech.

_“Philipp, right here, right now, I just want to say that I miss you so much. We all miss you. You were wonderful. You were fantastic. We never wanted to be in this situation, but life is life, things happen, no one to blame. I have been thinking of you for the whole day, missing your voice. I don’t know what to feel, my friend. I don’t know. The only thing I know is that I love you, so much. You know it, right? I know I make the worst speech ever, but… Really, I miss you. How I wish you were here._

_After all, I realize that, if you love someone, care for them, because they might be gone before you know. Fips, thank you for everything. I promise you that I will never hurt myself, or the people I love. I love you, Fips. You will always be in my heart.”_

How I wish, how I wish you were here

We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl

Year after year

Running over the same old ground

What have we found?

The same old fears

Wish you were here.

**Pink Floyd, “Wish You Were Here”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have made it through this, I don't have anything nicer than saying thank you for bearing with me.  
> Mistakes in the story are mine.  
> Feedbacks are welcome!


	3. Angels deserve to die.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philipp Lahm is an angel, and angels deserve to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess you are tired of all the tragedy. But this chapter comes out like the two previous ones. So, you can hate me for this.  
> I promise the next story will be much brighter and happier. But "enjoy" this one first. I'm (not) sorry. LOL.  
> Mistakes are mine.
> 
> There are not really any warnings for this chapter, but I have warned you: this won't end good.

**_Kindness is not just about helping people to get what they want. It’s something bigger, and cannot be defined just by words._ **

Philipp Lahm is an angel. Literally.

That means he is a real angel, the spirit that lives on the sky above, with a bright ring above his head.

His work is to help all the people who he comes across every day, with his power and magic. He always likes helping everybody, he likes seeing the smiles on their faces when they get their wishes granted; he likes hearing their thanks even when they can’t see him, they don’t know him. It has been a part of his life.

So that is not a surprise when the angel is walking down the street, people go through his body. He can fly if he wants, but he likes going on his foot. Maybe that makes him feel closer to the human, to their lives, their feelings. And from that, he can get a closer look to the ones who need his help.

He has been out of the city for a while, to a ruined area, which looks terrible and disgusting. People will need his help, he thinks to himself while looking around. The houses were damaged by fire, ages and the hands of the people. Bricks are falling freely from here to there, bare a large patch of cement on the walls. Furthermore, words were sprayed on the collapsed walls, and Philipp can read out some, all are full of anger and hatred to life, to the government, to everybody. Even there are some quotes doubting the existence of angels and gods in life.

Philipp shrugs, searches further in the area. He can feel the people near his place, and he starts running to find them. He lets out a breath of relief when he sees the people, and at the same time, he feels horrible and nasty.

The people in this area look ruined, cold, arrogant, scary and evil. Philipp wonders what makes them like that. Then he remembers there have been wars on this land, and these people are the consequences – they were born from the war, so they smell of hatred and wrath.

He walks past two people dealing drugs, a person digging through a porn magazine, three people getting drunk and start fighting each other, and many more sins committed on the road. He feels so hard to breath, as the sins fill up the air, suffocate him. Is there anyone who has not been ruined by life? This area has no children, Philipp realizes, and he starts feeling hopeless. His work is to help, not to judge, and with these people, his power is not strong enough. He thinks about telling Miroslav Klose – another angel, older than him, more experienced – to get this place right.

He stops for a little, sits down on a dirty chair next to the residence area, tries to gather his thoughts when suddenly, he feels something clear, fresh, pure rush by his place. It just lasts for a brief moment, but hope comes back to Philipp – there is still someone he can help in this screwed up place. He stands up, too eager to run, so he spreads his wings and flies to the source of purity.

He lands on a dirty land, with a small cottage built poorly on it. There is a small tree in front of the house, still lives despite the hard conditions, and Philipp is a little amused by the thoughts of someone who still keeps hope and live on, like that tree. He decides to go straight into the cottage.

“Who’s that?” Philipp is startled to hear a soft whisper, and he turns towards the voice to see the person. A young boy is sitting on the ground, looking at the walls, his arm crossing in front of his chest, and his legs folded a little. Philipp wonders how the person can see him: no human can see an angel.

“How come can you see me?” Philipp asks softly when he gets closer to the boy to see his face. The boy looks cute and pretty at the same time, there is an angelic look on his face that Philipp will never be able to forget, his nose is a little big, but that does not really matter, his long eyelashes are touching his cheeks lightly, makes him look even more beautiful. In this land of dead and sins, finding someone like this boy is so magnificent.

“I can’t see you. But I can feel your presence.” The boy answers, turns around to face Philipp, and this time, Philipp notices one sad thing: the boy is blind.

He feels lost and painful for the boy; he is so young, so beautiful, and so angelic but he has his disability. Plus, he does not deserve to live in this kind of area – the boy deserves to be at somewhere better.

Philipp sits down next to the boy, tries to form a smile. “What’s your name?”

The boy chuckles lightly, and it sounds cute to the angel. “You are new to this town, right? And you are not a normal person.” he comments, “but you are really trustworthy, in my opinion. For your interest, I’m Bastian. And I guess I don’t have to know your name, because you are not us, and I don’t have to call your name to separate you from people.” The boy – Bastian – adds, and Philipp’s mouth drops.

“How can you know all of that?” He asks, feels interested and amused as he looks at the boy, reads his body to see if he is lying or not. But the boy is being honest, much to Philipp’s relief – he can’t stand it if this angelic boy is some sort of a liar.

“Maybe it’s just a gift to cover up my disability.” Bastian speaks politely, “I know that you notice it.”

Philipp nods, but when he remembers that the boy can’t see him, he replies with a “Yeah, I guess” to him.

Bastian smiles, faces the door when he asks Philipp, “Would you like to go out? The river must look great today.”

Philipp wants to ask river what, because he did not see any rivers around this place, but he shuts his mouth up and follows the boy outside.

Bastian stops at a big rock and sits by its side, faces nothing, much to Philipp’s curiosity. He looks at Bastian, then in front of him, does not quite understand. Of course there is no river at this place, and what he is staring at is just a blank land with nothing on it, just the rotten roots of some dead trees and some bones of dead animals scattering elsewhere.

Bastian takes a deep breath, then smiles. “Today seems to be a great day. I bet the river is flowing smoothly, taking my stories and wishes to the land of wonder and hope. One day, I will get to that place, to live in my dream, that’s all I want.” He points to the spot and Philipp looks, still sees nothing, but Bastian just keeps on his saying. “Can you see the watchtower over there? I can’t see them, but my mom told me that there were people over there, which would watch the river and send the messages from this town to Wonderland. I have read a lot for my mom to write my words on the paper. I hope that it will make someone’s life better. The letters have been sent to many people, and I’m happy to know that.” The boy chuckles and turns to face Philipp. “Don’t you think so?”

Philipp opens his mouth to answer, but words die in his throat. “I…” His mind is working fast and hard to the details of Bastian’s words: There is no river, but Bastian’s mom lied to him that there was, and his mom told him about that non-existed land, and his mom never sent Bastian’s words away, Philipp thinks. In this dead land, people are isolated, there is no way any information can come to another place. Plus, there is just ONE watchtower, but the time Philipp reached there, there were just two corpses of the filthy people in this town, caused by drug overdose.

So what is all this for?

Philipp wants to tell Bastian the truth, but the words his father once told him ring in his mind.

_“Son, words can affect really strongly to a person’s life. Sometimes lying is an option. So consider before you speak.”_

There must be some reasons that Bastian’s mom lied to him.

Philipp nods at his own thoughts, before realizing that Bastian’s head is still tilting to his side, waiting for his answer. He clears his throat, speaks as fast as possible to avoid the suspicion from the boy. “Yeah, it’s a really good day, I’m glad too.”

A smile lights up Bastian’s face and that is the most beautiful thing Philipp has seen in a while. The boy really looks like an angel, just without those wings and that ring, with all the energy and hope, Philipp thinks with a sad smile. He wants to reach and touch the boy’s face, but he can’t. Angels are spirit, and the boy in front of him is nothing but a human. They can’t touch each other in any cases.

Beside him, Bastian is singing softly, his voice echoing the abandoned land.

***

Philipp looks at the woman with serious eyes. The woman cannot see him, but the change in the atmosphere makes her freeze to the spot. She gets down on her knees, starts praying, tears slide down her face, get caught in her freckles. Her lips purses together, trying to block the sound coming from her mouth.

“Forgive me the mighty God and the Angels…” she sobs, keeps on praying. “Please forgive all my sins… I have been a liar to my only son, and I will always be… Please, all the suffering I will receive, but please don’t hurt my son… He is so young, so young, and I will do anything to get him out of this place… Please listen to my prayers, the mighty God and the Angels…”

Philipp shakes his head. “Why do you give him the false hope? One day, when you are not here, who will take care of him? At that time, he will see the truth, and with those monsters in this place, he will be like one of them! Do you want that, woman?” A string of questions comes out of Philipp’s lips, goes directly into the woman’s mind. Her crying just gets louder.

“I… I will get him out of here before I vanish, my mighty God and the Angels… I can’t tell him about this place, I can’t destroy his hope… Please forgive me…”

Philipp does not know what to say. He just roots to the spot, thinks things over. Bastian will need to know. He will, but maybe not now.

Deep in his thoughts, he is a little amused to see the boy walking out of his cottage, his eyes look confused even when he’s blind. Bastian gets closer to his mom, hugs her, murmurs. “Mama, why are you crying? Let me hug it better.”

The woman nods repeatedly, takes Bastian’s hand, holds it tightly. “Mama is okay, just some dust flies into mama’s eyes, but mama is okay now. Let’s go inside, dear.”

Bastian nods, but firstly, he gets down onto his knees and prays silently. “The wonderful angel, please save us.” Then he gets up from the ground, holds a hand out to support his mother before stumbling inside the small cottage. The whole scene breaks Philipp’s heart a little, and the angel feels something on his face. They are not tears – angels don’t cry anyway. It’s the nature reaction of his world at some kind of emotion. He reaches his own face, takes the crystal piece into his hand, before putting it on the ground. Tomorrow a tree will grow up from the spot, and the tree won’t die until the hatred takes this world.

***

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Philipp says softly, sits down next to Bastian again. They are sitting by the “river”, facing each other, and Bastian just smiles brightly at the angel, his hands play with the hem of his shirt.

“A tree is growing in our ground. Things like this don’t happen every day, you know.” Bastian keeps that happy look on his face, and Philipp feels happy for the human too. “That’s great.”

“Yeah.” Bastian nods, and suddenly his face becomes really sad. “My mom cried a few days ago, but she did not tell me why. Something must be wrong, I can smell it in the air. How do you think?”

Philipp hesitates. How can he tell Bastian about that talk anyway?

“Maybe she is thinking of some of her memories?” He tries, feels bad himself.

Bastian shakes his head lightly. “Maybe. It does not matter.”

Philipp just looks down his bare feet.

“Bastian?”

“Hm?” The boy has a curious look on his face, and Philipp’s throat tightens as he keeps on questioning.

“Do you have anything, like dreams?”

“The things that I want? I have.” The boy replies dryly.

“Oh. What are they?”

Bastian smiles but it is a forced one. “You can’t help me with my dreams.”

“Just tell me. Please.” Philipp begs.

Bastian turns his face away so they are not facing each other anymore. “I want to see. I want to get rid of this disability, so that I can see and feel this world. I envy people who can see but do not take care of their eyes. I want to see so that I can see my mom’s face. There are tons of things that I could do when my eyes could see. But, as I have said, no avail.”

The knot in Philipp’s stomach tightens for some reasons. Of course, he can help Bastian with that dream, but something does not feel right.

He reaches the boy’s face, prepares his power to heal the boy’s eyes. But he can’t do it.

What will happen if he grants Basti’s wish?

What if he feels happy and has a better life? Good.

But…

What if he finds out his whole life is a lie?

What if he finds out the whole river thing is a lie, the watch tower is a lie, every hope he has been given in this world is just false?

What if he understands that he can never escape this place?

What if he finds out that his mom – the only family he has – lies to him? Even on good purposes?

Bastian is still young, and Philipp can’t risk the boy’s life.

He withdraws his arm, keeps it to his side. The power flies from his hand, creates a stream of sparkles. Everywhere the sparkle touches, a small bud grows from the ground.

They stay silent, then Philipp spreads his wings and flies away.

He does not regret his decision.

***

Miroslav: “Do you really want to do it?”

Miroslav: “Think about it. Carefully.”

Miroslav: “The consequence will be unpredictable.”

Miroslav: “Really? Are you sure?”

Miroslav: “Is that boy worth it? Is he really?”

Miroslav: “Okay. Give me your hand. It will hurt a little, and I’m lying. First, your whole power will be eaten slowly, painfully. Secondly, your ring will be taken away, there may be the liquid that humans call blood flies out from your body. Thirdly, you will vanish into thin air, weak and helpless. And you will have to live in that state forever.”

Miroslav: “Are you ready?”

Philipp nods, holds his hand out for Miroslav. The older angel carefully touches his hand and takes it. Pain shoots through Philipp’s figure, he wants to scream out loud but nothing comes. He bites on his bottom lip, tries to suffer the pain. Please make it worth it, Bastian, he thinks to himself when another wave of agony washes through him.

“Fight, Philipp.” Miroslav whispers. “I can’t stop the process, we all know from the beginning.”

Philipp nods, mouths a “go on” before his body becomes transparent. It’s going to end soon.

***

“Where am I?” Bastian opens his eyes, around him is the darkness. He slowly touches the ground, realizes that he is not on the land of his cottage anymore.

He tries to remember what happened. His mom was screaming, and then she could not be heard anymore. Her body turned cold in Bastian’s arms, and he just stayed numb. The he felt the presence of that same “person”. He said that he would help Bastian.

And then he ends up being here.

“Hey, man, are you alright?” A soft, gentle voice speaks up, and Bastian just panics at the stranger. “Who are you?”

The man chuckles lightly, touches Bastian’s arm to calm him down. “I should be the one who asks that question. But I want you to trust me… So I’m Lukas. Lukas Podolski. And you?”

“I’m Bastian.” He answers, the fear is still there but has subsided somewhat. He reaches in the air, and Lukas catches his hand, carefully. “Hey, man, I will take you to my house, and maybe we can talk.”

“I don’t feel safe around you.” Bastian growls.

“I swear to all the angels up above that I won’t hurt you. Okay?”

Sounds so familiar…

And when Lukas supports him with his strong arms, he feels warm. A new kind of feeling rushes to him – the feeling of being loved by someone not his mother, the feeling of home.

And he is coming home. Maybe.

***

The shadow smiles slightly at the scene of Lukas hugging Bastian lovingly and kisses on his cheek. He does not regret what he has done. He was born to bring happiness to people.

And he did.


End file.
